Bouncer

(Music: Obsession by Army of Lovers. Inspired by Ode to the Bouncer by Studio Killers. This is a pre- and sequel to Before the Kitchen)

Jess had been stalking this boy for weeks; quietly, discreetly. He drank at the same bar, danced at the same nightclub, went to the same restaurants and watched his home. The boy wouldn’t be missed for a few days, since he had a tendency to get roaring drunk with strange men and crawl out the front door after the morning after and often the morning after that had passed.

He was in the nightclub and Jess was ready to strike. He had all his knives packed, his apron wrapped around them in the car. He was all raw energy and delicious sexual tension. This was going to be wonderful. The only problem seemed to be the bouncer.

The bouncer eyed the short, chubby man trying not to glare up at him and tried to hide his smile. “Woah, there. I’m sorry, the club’s full. You’re just going to have to wait.” The club was full, but more than that, there was something about this guy. Micah was a big man, and he’d been a bouncer a few years (and done worse things, before that). There wasn’t much he was afraid of, but this pudgy little guy…he set off alarm bells. For one thing, he was not at all the sleek, preppy sort of cliental that this club catered to. He set off Micah’s gaydar, but beyond that…

“Oh, so early?” Jess put on his best sweet seductress face, even though he felt like stabbing this man in the navel. Not only was he very tall and in his way, but he’d immediately bristled when Jess approached. Very few people reacted to him this way, but once in awhile he’d run into someone who could see the predator that he was. “I really need to get in, I’m meeting friends for birthday drinks,” he smiled up at the bouncer, biting his lip. At least the man was attractive, it wouldn’t be at all painful to seduce him.

“Mm-hmm.” Micah gave the shorter man his best ‘so sorry, nothing I can do’ expression. Bullshit, birthday drinks, he found himself thinking uncharitably, though he had no idea why the thought had come into his head. “Well, I’m sorry, sir, you’ll just have to wait, and it could be a while.” Please, just leave, he thought.

“Isn’t there any way I can get in?” Jess was suddenly closer, running a small hand up the bouncer’s chest, grinning up at him.

Micah just raised an eyebrow and stared at the man’s hand like it was something mildly vulgar or offensive. The guy really reminded him of someone…

“Come on, if you don’t like it, don’t let me in,” the short man shrugged, good-naturedly. “At least you’ll get some good head out of it.”

Micah shook his head with a laugh. “Sir, I’ll be frank with you. This is a gay bar. If I let every guy in who hit on me…I wouldn’t have a job, comprende?”

Jess chuckled, “Hitting on you is one thing, offering you a blowjob is another. Maybe by the time we’re done, there’ll be room. At least let me treat myself on my birthday.”

“Now it’s your birthday, is it. Look, I’m working, and there’s a line behind you. I’m…flattered…but if you keep this up I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Ah. That was it. When Micah had first arrived in the city, one of his cousins had shown him around, gotten him a few jobs. Micah was a big guy; it was only natural that he’d end up working for the mob. He’d watched one of them cut a guy up, just slice him to pieces, and all the time he had smiled like he was having a Sunday picnic or something. That’s who this guy reminded him of. A smiling predator. Micah shivered. Someone tapped his arm and he fought back a startle, turning to see the smiling face of his replacement.

“Hey, Micah, why so tense? C’mon, you’re done, go get some sleep or something.”

Micah nodded. “Yeah…this guy doesn’t get in, understand me?” He whispered into Connor’s ear.

“Sure. Whatever. It’s packed in there.” Shaking his head—Micah was so twitchy sometimes—Connor clapped his co-worker on the back and turned to look down at the dude who had freaked him out so badly. He was just a plump little guy. Harmless.

Jess grinned at the bouncer’s replacement. The new bouncer seemed much easier. “Hi…” he licked his lips.

“Hey,” Connor purred, completely taken in. “Sorry about Micah. He’s twitchy, y’know? Did I hear it’s your birthday?”

“Mhm,” he nodded and bit his lip, looking wide-eyed and hopeful.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve chosen us for your, ah, birthday needs. What can I do to make your birthday wishes come true?” Connor put a little extra emphasis on ‘cum’. Damn, but he was a sexy little chub.

“Letting me in would be nice, but I understand if you’d rather wish me a happy birthday more privately.” Jess gave him a sweet little smile, putting a hand on his chest and practically melting into him.

“Dahhh…” Connor scrambled to close the velvet rope across the entrance to the club, ignoring the groans of the people standing further back in line. “Ah, yeah, sure. C’mon, over here.” The bouncer draped a hand over the shorter man’s shoulder, almost protectively.

Jess grinned, eyes flashing with a triumphant ferocity. He got on his knees in front of the big bouncer, undoing his pants in a hurry and stroking the boy to full erection. He didn’t exactly take his time, but he still believed these things could not be rushed. His mouth slid over the head of the bouncer’s cock and he took him all in, eyes rolling back.

“Ohhh…fuuuck…” Connor sighed, one big hand tangled deep in the other man’s hair. “Fuck, you’re good at that…” In a very short time, his cock was weeping drops of clear fluid, and his eyes were closed as he leaned heavily on the man between his legs.

The little chef groaned around the cock in his mouth, enjoying the sensation of it hitting the back of his throat. He pushed Connor back against the wall gently to help him stay standing, bobbing his head hungrily.

“Oh. Oh, yeah…fuck, I’m gonna…” With a gutteral noise, Connor spasmed and came down the kneeling man’s throat, his hands scrambling at his hair and shoulders as he moaned and pounded as far and as hard as he could.

Jess swallowed, letting a little dribble down his chin and wiping it away with a smile when he pulled back. He looked up at Connor with a big, dopey grin. “You got me just what I wanted.”

“Mmm…that’s good.” Connor grinned down at the smaller man. “Um…you can, you know, go in. If you want. I’m sorry about Micah. Happy birthday.” The bouncer stumbled back to his place in line and nodded his head for the little man to enter.

Jess stood on his tiptoes to kiss Connor’s chin. “Thanks, sweetheart. It’s going to be a good night,” he winked, going into the club to start his birthday hunt.

****

“In other news, a body believed to be that of 24-year-old Jacob Holmes was recovered last night. Authorities say that the body was badly mutilated, and…”

Micah clicked off the TV, feeling light-headed. He sank onto the couch, the last image fixed in his mind. It was a picture of a smiling young man, his hair perfectly styled, in the prime of life, beautiful and vibrant and…dead. Micah had a sick feeling, and he knew what he had to do. The phone was in the bedroom. He forced himself off of the couch and made his way down the hall. He grabbed for the light and flicked the switch. Nothing. What the hell? He jiggled it a few more times before backing out of the doorway. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Something was definitely wrong. He backed down the hall, with a vague idea that he had to get out, had to leave the apartment.

The knife had been blacked out, so he didn’t see it glimmer when it slashed out of the darkness, stabbing him deep in the thigh. In the dark, with such a large man, Jess had gone straight for the femoral artery.

Micah’s hand moved to cover the wound before he even felt the pain. He had grown up in a small town, and he had done plenty of stupid things as a kid. He knew when he was badly hurt. He took three steps before his leg buckled and he fell to one knee, slipping in terrifyingly large puddles of his own blood. He struggled to stand again, to face his attacker, fighting to keep his hand pressed against the wound through the spurts of slick blood. He had a horrible suspicion that he knew what was happening, but no. That was just paranoid. He pulled himself onto his good leg using the armrest of the couch, but blood was gushing from between his fingers and his head was already swimming as he fought to reach the door, one helpless, hobbling step at a time.

He felt himself pulled back by a strong arm around his neck. Now that he was hunched over, Jess found it easier to grab the giant of a man. “Remember me?” he purred, using the same flirtatious tone he had taken at the nightclub.

Micah gave a rasping laugh, his hand pulled away from the wound for a vital instant. “Yeah, I remember you…” he sighed. It was all just sort of distantly amusing now. He was paranoid, but he was also right. “I remember you.” He couldn’t remember if he had said that already, and it was so cold in here. He shivered. “It was you, wasn’t it? With that guy…Holmes…” he laughed. “Is your name…Moriarty?” He could almost feel what years of TV programs had shown—synapses or nerves or whatever firing, just shooting off whatever they thought of first, making him say crazy shit as he no longer seemed to care. “You got him.”

“I certainly did,” Jess chuckled. “And now I’ve got you, too.” He bent down and kissed the man, roughly. He was certainly fading fast.

“Why…?” Micah gasped. His breathing was slow, so slow. It felt like a revelation, like something he should have known his whole life. If only he could go swimming like this, not needing oxygen! He could hibernate. He could…his eyelids were so, so heavy, but he wanted to fix the man’s image in his mind forever so the police would know… “Who?” It was nice to be kissed, though, and he tried to reach up and grab the man, to hold him until help came, to touch skin one last time. His fingers barely fluttered.

“He was delicious.” Jess murmured against Micah’s mouth. It had taken him only a few nights to find out where Micah lived. Following him home from the nightclub had been the hardest part, since the paranoid man seemed to constantly be watching. It was wonderful to finally have the man who had seen him for what he was at his mercy. “Sleep well, Micah.”

In the time it took him to try and think of something witty to say, Micah died.

Jess butchered the beautiful bouncer efficiently, taking only the parts he knew he would use in the next few days. He gave him a last kiss, then left through the back door, his bloody apron stashed in a bag along with various kinds of meat and some used kitchen knives.

New Chef

“Detlef!” Even though the intervening years since school have mellowed him, Lydon still eagerly throws himself into the older German’s arms, racing past the servant who had opened the door. “I’m sorry we haven’t visited in so long. There’s been a lot of business to attend to.” He makes a face at the thought of ‘business’. “Really, I thought Jerome would be doing more of it, but…anyway, it’s all settled now. Ivar and I are living in my parents’ manor, you simply must come and visit us.” Lydon had been fond of his parents, but…their deaths have been quite convenient, allowing him to pursue his interests more freely. At twenty-four, Lydon has become quite skilled at torturing and killing boys. Ivar, as always, seems born to sadism.

Detlef crushed Lydon in a great big hug. “Hello, young Lydon.” the older man smiled. He’d missed the boys visiting. “I’m glad you could make it. Roland is excited to see his new home. Is Ivar still at home?”

“Yes, thought someone should stay home. And I don’t think Jerome likes him very much, and I do so love to torment Jerome. I can’t wait to meet Roland, I was so happy when you said you had a chef!” Lydon reaches up to stroke the hair over Detlef’s temples. “You’re going grey, old chap. It looks quite distinguished.”

The big German man laughed. “My replacement chef is turning me grey. He has a few… peculiarities.”

Lydon raises an eyebrow. “So you wrote, but you were being terribly vague. What would you find peculiar?”

“He spent most of his youth in an asylum and seems to have come up with the idea that sex will solve everything. He’s keeping Roland –and the other servants- quite busy.” Detlef chuckled.

“I see…an asylum, you say?” Despite his own inclinations, Lydon is a little unsettled at the thought of sleeping in the house with a known madman. “Whatever for?”

“For killing and eating his sister.” he said with a smirk. “Only for the same sins we’ve committed, little Lydon.”

Visibly relieved, Lydon smiles back. “Ah. Well, there but for the grace of God, and all that. Is he straight, then?”

“I don’t have any female servants, so I don’t know if he is inclined towards women. However, he certainly seems to enjoy men.” Detlef wraps an arm around Lydon and leads him down to the kitchen. “Roland, Jess, this is Lydon.”

Roland – a great tall man with red hair- crosses the kitchen and offers Lydon a big hand. “It’s an honor to meet you!”

Tucked safely under Detlef’s arm, Lydon peers around the kitchen. Despite his old friend’s assurances, he’s still a little wary. Seeing the large man approaching, Lydon recognizes Detlef’s description of Roland, and eagerly takes the chef’s hand. “You must be Roland. I’m very pleased to meet you, as well. Detlef has nothing but the best to say about you, and I know how exacting his standards are for his game.” He eyes the short, pudgy blond behind Roland carefully. He’s never met a madman before!

Jess looked up from the contents of the bowl he was whisking briefly, meeting Lydon’s eyes, then going back to his work.

Roland was flushed with happiness, “I’m glad he’s given me such a glowing review! I only want to do the best that I can.” he turned and looked back at Jess. “Come say hello.” he encouraged.

“Hello Lydon.” Jess intoned, clearly disinterested.

“Hello, Jess.” Lydon says, rather awkwardly, before turning back to the enthusiastic Roland. “I’m only glad that he’s letting me steal you away from him. Now that everything is settled at home, Ivar and I have been lamenting our lack of a decent chef.” Ivar has killed several of them, in point of fact, but Lydon decides this is not the time to mention that fact.

Roland grinned. “I hope I’ll be up to both your standards.”

“Of course he will. And if it doesn’t work out, I’ll always take you back here.” Detlef said, looking at Lydon pointedly. He knew that it was likely that the failed chefs had died horrible deaths at the hands of Ivar.

Lydon flashes his most innocent expression, daintily examining his manicured nails. “Very good. I assumed I would stay the night. For old times’ sake.” Now Lydon’s innocent look takes on a decidedly flirtatious edge, pointed firmly at Detlef. “Ivar doesn’t mind, he just gets quite jealous if he’s around, you know. But…he’s safely at home.” Linking hands with Detlef, Lydon presses his body against the German’s side, quite casually.

Detlef laughed, squeezing Lydon firmly to his side. “Is that how it’s going to be?” he teased. “And I thought you’d be eager to get to know Roland.”

Roast's Theme Song

Oysters

Jess, after having spent a lazy morning with Roast on their day off, has a merciless craving for oysters. It's been raining out all day and the Master's off the island, so there's absolutely nothing to take his mind off his belly's desires. Roast wasn't willing to give up his yet.... but he didn't feel permission was necessary from certain other boys. "Steak, would you come in here?"

Steak is always happy to have a summons to Jess' room, and heads in without hesitation when he hears the chef calling for him. He's a little surprised to see that Roast is also waiting.

"Strip. Get on the bed, on your back."

Very pleased by his good fortune, Steak does as he's told with a happy little smirk.

Jess gets out his ball of kitchen twine, quickly separating Steak's balls from his body, tying them off tightly and squeezing them happily.

Roast can hardly keep himself from snickering; Jess had told him that he was planning on giving Steak a good scare and cutting off his balls. He assumes Jess is joking.

Steak is a little nervous, but he definitely enjoys the sensation. Soon, his neck is arched with pleasure, and he glances down from time to time to watch his balls change colour.

To both the other boys' surprise, Jess takes out a small butchering knife and slices Steak's ball sac, popping them out after making a few more quick incisions.

There is a heavy thud as Roast hits the floor in a dead faint.

Steak, who had been in his neck-arched phase, doesn't realize what's happened at first. He looks down when he hears the body hit the floor, and sees what's happened between his legs. He shrieks.

Jess looks down at Roast innocently. He grabs the spray bottle he keeps in his room to cool himself and his boys off, spraying Roast to wake him. He plops the little oysters into a bowl of delicious red sauce he'd prepared earlier. So far, he was ignoring Steak.

Roast sits up, blinking, when he feels the mist hitting his face. "Mmm? Jess? Why am I on the floor? I feel...funny..."

Steak lays back on the bed, breathing heavily and on the edge of hyperventilating.

"You fainted!" Jess laughed. "I didn't realize you were so squeamish. You've helped me butcher boys before." he stroked Roast's forehead, soothingly. "You're fine." he murmured.

"Oooh..." Roast groans, leaning into Jess' cool hand. "...thank you. I don't know what came over me. I guess...I didn't think you were actually going to, I just thought you were going to scare him!"

"You cut off my fucking balls!" Steak screams.

Jess grabbed Steak by the neck. "And if you had been better behaved, I would have asked your permission first." he stroked Roast's forehead gently. "I surprised you, did I?"

Roast nods, sitting up under his own power a little more.

"Wha--why--agh!" Steak sputters, struggling in Jess' powerful grip.

"Sit down and be quiet or I'll cut off your fingers and keep you in a cage until you're ready to eat." Jess growled at him.

Whimpering, Steak sits still.

"Good boy." Jess smiles, leaving them for a moment and popping his knife blade into the oven.

Roast, always soft-hearted, gently gathers Steak into his arms, soothing him. "It's alright, Steak. You're fine."

Steak shivers, clinging to Roast and fighting back tears with noisy sniffles.

Jess came back whistling, spreading Steak's thighs and pressing the hot knife to the wound inside Steak's empty sac where he cut out the balls, cauterizing it neatly. He then took some sutures and stitched the empty sac shut fluidly.

Seeing what's coming, Roast quickly grabs Steak's arms firmly, covers the boy's eyes with his other hand, and plants a soft kiss on Steak's forehead.

"Roast, what--" Because his balls are tied off, Steak doesn't feel the full pain, but he's still aware that something is going on and starts thrashing.

Jess lets Steak keep his balls tied of for a little while longer, then removes it, once the struggling has stopped. He smiles at his big strong Roast, glad he has someone to help hold Steak down.

Roast smiles back, still looking a little pale and shaky. He continues holding and gentling Steak.

Steak is trembling, mostly with fury, glaring at Jess. If rather feebly.

Now that Steak's oysters have been sitting in the sauce for some time, Jess takes one of them and swallows it whole, smiling happily as it slides into his stomach.

Roast laughs despite himself. Jess is just so...unique.

Seeing his testicle eaten by Jess pushes Steak over the edge, and he faints in Roast's arms.

Jess laughs, offering Roast the other oyster.

The sous chef takes it after a moment's hesitation, following Jess' example. "Mmm...very tender. And a delicious sauce." He glances down at Steak, kissing the unconscious boy's hair. "...probably for the best. Mind if I lay him on your bed for a while?"

"That's fine." he nods. "I'll go see Sydney, get the boy some pain killer. The Master won't be home tonight if it keeps storming anyway, so I doubt tomorrow will be very busy for us." Jess kissed Roast's shoulder on a nice red bite-mark before heading up to see his doctor friend.

Roast lays Steak on the bed, gently tucking him in and putting him in a comfortable position. "I'll stay with him, if you don't mind, in case he wakes up." He trails off into a gasp as his tender bite is kissed, waving vaguely after Jess.

Jess wanders upstairs, taking his time, enjoying being upstairs instead in the wide hallways and on the plush carpet, rather than the busy, loud and sterile-tiled kitchen. Though it is his element and he loves it... a change is nice.

He wanders up to Sydney's room, knocking on the door softly.

Sydney is reading a romance novel, of all things. "Come in," he says, softly, when he hears the knock. It can only be Jess.

Jess raised his eyebrow at Sydney's reading material. "I would have expected a thriller." he smiled.

Showing just a hint of a blush, Sydney carefully sets his book aside. "Is there something you needed to talk to me about? ...besides my choice of reading materials," the doctor says, wryly.

"Actually, I was hoping you would be able to offer me a painkiller for Steak." Jess chuckled, patting Sydney's arm amiably.

Habit makes Sydney withdraw from the touch, before he takes a deep breath and relaxes, smiling at Jess. "Oh? What happened to your pet troublemaker this time?"

"I castrated him." Jess said matter-of-factly, picking up the romance novel and skimming the back. "Actually, this doesn't sound so bad."

Sydney smirks. "You see? ...wait, you what?"

"I castrated him. I had a craving for oysters." he smiled. "He's unconscious for now. I've cauterized the wound and stitched him up, but he'll be in some pain when he wakes up." he put down the book.

"...what do oysters have to do with anything?" Sydney asks, rummaging in his doctor's bag for an analgesic. "Well, it sounds like he'll be fine, painkillers should be enough...let me know if he needs more."

"Human oysters." Jess took the offered bottle of pills. "Testicles. Delicious, you should try them with me sometime." he smiled.

Sydney raises an eyebrow, looking somewhat appalled. "I don't even like real oysters, but...thank you."

Jess shrugs. Fine dining was somewhat lost on Sydney, in his opinion, but he did still enjoy the man's company enough not to comment.

Never one for, in his opinion pointless, social niceties, Sydney glances pointedly at his book. "Well. Let me know if he needs more, or bring him up if you want me to have a look. You could, ah, come by tonight. If you wanted." Sydney assumes, barring some emergency, that he'll be done his book by then and his schedule will be more open.

"Alright, I'll get out of your hair." Jess kissed the doctor's cheek. "Enjoy your book." The chef took off.

"I will," Sydney says absently, already immersed in his book.

Jess headed back downstairs, forced a pill down Steak's throat and went to spend the rest of the afternoon in the garden.

Roast, having finished his work, ascertains where Jess is and ambles outside after him. "...mind if I join you?"

"Not at all." Jess murmured, happy and warm in the sun. "How are the boys?"

"Good. We've made food for ourselves and everyone who's in the house, and they're starting to wander off for their evening free time." Roast gazes happily at the warm, soft chef. He loves it when Jess is relaxed like this. Roast stretches full-length in the grass with a little happy groan.

Jess nods, eyes still closed. "And how is my Roast?" he wiggles his bare toes across the grass into Roast's lap, tickling the giant man.

Roast giggles and squirms, playfully capturing Jess' foot in one hand and giving him a lazy foot massage. "Mmm. It's nice to be outside. From time to time."

"It is, isn't it." Jess groaned happily, giving Roast both of his feet to massage and rub.

"I wish I had something to rub them with...if only I'd known," Roast says, running his thumbs over Jess' feet.

"Mmmm... that's nice though." Jess sighed. "Steak hasn't woken up, has he?"

"No, not yet. Stock's watching him." Roast laughs softly to himself, imagining Jess laying on the ground naked, looking like a heap of early snow.

"Is that funny?" Jess murmured.

"Um...yeah, a little..." Roast says quickly. "He was nervous about watching him in case something happened, but I told him to go and get Sydney." He rubs Jess' feet more vigorously.

"That's not very funny." Jess said sensibly, groaning.

"...you didn't see his face when I asked him. Or when I told him what had happened to Steak."

Jess chuckled. "True."

Roast sighs in relief and carefully works his kneading hands up Jess' calves.

The round, pale man makes little happy groaning sounds, starting to drift off in the grass, warmed by the sun.

Sighing with contentment, Roast continues his impromptu massage, quietly shooing away any insects who come to investigate Jess. "I know he smells like sugar," the sous chef quietly tells a bee, "but he always does. Look, there are some nice flowers over there."

Jess snickers.

Blushing, Roast assaults a large knot on Jess' thigh.

The chef continues to grin, but still groans under Roast's big hands. "Mmm, good boy."

Roast 'hmphs' quietly, but grins as well and continues his way up Jess' legs. "Do you want to roll over so I can do your back?"

Jess flails a little, managing to roll onto his front. His muscles are feeling all melty and wonderful. The Roast hands and the sun are turning him into a puddle.

Laughing gently, Roast helps his chef to roll and begins kneading Jess' back. "Mmm, you're nice and warm."

Jess practically purrs. "Ohhhh... yes, right there."

Roast obligingly concentrates on the desired spot, beginning to yawn a little himself as the warmth and the breeze affect him.

Jess was quiet for a few minutes, then Roast realized he was snoring quietly.

Smiling, the sous chef goes to a small storage shed in the little garden and finds a blanket to cover Jess with. He then settles nearby to make sure the chef isn't disturbed. It isn't long before he, too, is asleep.

Roast's Fetish

Roast knocks softly on Jess' doorframe, seeing as the door is open. He can't resist taking a peek inside, however, and is delighted--and aroused--as always at the sight of his chef getting dressed. Jess' clothes alone can get him going, and the sight of his naked body, exactly the sort of body Roast wishes he had; small, soft and round...he's blushing a little.

"Come in." Jess calls, buttoning up his pants and fishing a neatly folded shirt out of his dresser.

The sous chef shivers with delight and enters the room, leaning as casually as he can on the wall while he watches Jess finish.

Jess raised an eyebrow at him. "Did you need something, or did you just need to get an erection?"

Roast's slight blush goes instantly crimson. "Ah! What...? I...uh...no! I mean yes!" He realizes, to his horror, that he's forgotten what he came in for. "...sorry..." he murmurs, hanging his head. "I'll...go..."

Jess laughs. "Come back, Roast, I'm only teasing. What did you come here for? Did you forget?"

"Yes..." the larger man admits, grinning awkwardly at the chef. "I don't know what it is about your clothes...even your shoes..." He shuts his mouth abruptly, realizing he's babbling.

Jess looks down at his comfortable, but hardly flattering white shoes. "These?" he asked, incredulously.

Roast nods, trying to look amused and mostly just looking embarrassed.

Jess looked him up and down, then pointed down at his shoes. "Then come here and polish them."

Roast is moving before conscious thought kicks in, on his knees in front of Jess with a rag. He blinks a bit, startled to find himself here, but continues carefully polishing the soft leather.

"With your tongue."

The sous chef's eyes widen, and he tilts his head to look up at Jess, past the broad expanse of the other's belly. He nods, trying to hide his delighted smile, and lowers himself still further, where he begins licking the plain shoes as intimately as though he were sucking Jess. He lifts his head just for an instant to ask, hesitantly, "...you aren't needed in the kitchen?"

"Not for a little while." Jess murmured, voice husky. Roast could always tell when he was enjoying himself by the change in his voice. The bulge in his pants was a clear sign too.

Roast nods, his mouth and tongue already latched back on the shoes, his hands wrapped around them, tenderly caressing as he licks and sucks. He loves hearing Jess' voice like this, and he contemplates lifting his head, but...he hasn't been told he can.

Jess allows Roast to continue sucking and licking at his shoes for a time, then unbuttons his pants.

The big sous chef's eyes widen, but he diligently continues on the shoes, not lifting his head, only enjoying the sounds of Jess' movement.

Once his cock is free of his pants, Jess starts stroking himself, teasingly slow. He's wondering how long Roast will be able to continue on his shoes with such a temptation above him.

Roast shudders, his nose almost pressed to the leather of the shoes, eyes closed, as he ignores what he hasn't been offered and continues working his tongue in long, slow circles along the white shoes. He realizes that he's licking in time to the sounds of the chef's strokes above him, and he moans helplessly into the shoe.

Jess steps back out of his shoes, sitting on the bed and offering Roast a hand.

Roast follows the movement, his eyes a little unfocused, but he eventually manages to get his hand/eye coordination working well enough to place his hand in Jess'.

Jess grabs him by his hair and guides his lips to his cock.

The sous chef moans with delight, eagerly allowing himself to be pulled forward until his lips meet firm, soft flesh. His mouth closes around the treat, and he closes his eyes as well, to concentrate completely. Every other sense is engaged, even smell.

Jess lays back on the bed and moans, submitting to Roast's talented mouth.

Roast hums softly around his mouthful, loving the feeling of Jess' cock vibrating around his lips, hoping Jess likes the feeling too. He's oddly unable to remember if he's done this with Jess before. He lightly rests a hand on either side of Jess' prone body, leaning even further in.

Jess groans deep in his throat, fingers curling in Roast's hair.

Roast leans in and pulls back, loving the tension this creates on his hair, and working his mouth up and down Jess' shaft while he moves, rolling his tongue under the head and along the loose skin of the underside.

Steel Cook

I was flipping through channels, vaguely looking for porn or at least something worth watching, when I happened to catch a glimpse of some guys in shiny outfits and chef hats. It seemed like the best thing on, and it was just starting. I had seen a few episodes of Steel Cook before, and it was always good entertainment. I flipped back to it and realized that the secret ingredient hadn't even been revealed yet, they were still talking about the show and listing people's names and stuff.

They got through the usual drabble about guest judges and Steel Cooks. Then the flamboyant host announced the secret ingredient. Pulling off a huge lid, he declared, "Longpig!" Four live, naked boys were revealed in a rush of steam, hogtied and squirming.

This...was interesting. I mean, I knew they used some unusual ingredients, but this one was definitely the best one yet. I had found something interesting to watch, and porn. Nice.

The two competing chefs went up to choose their longpigs. They felt the boy’s muscles, then lifted them onto their carts, taking them back to their areas.

The boys all sport wide eyes and hard cocks--they're clearly not completely unhappy to be there.

The usual actress guest judge is asked if she feels sorry for the longpigs, and she replied that she did at first, but she's getting used to it and is very excited to see and taste what the chefs come up with.

The Steel Cook put one boy to bathe in a huge bowl of cola, the other boy he ushered to the counter, putting his chin on the edge of it and snapping the boy's neck.

The boy in the cola lies passively in his sweet, sticky bath, a little smile on his face.

The judges speculate as to why the boy has been put in cola, and they discuss how all the longpigs have been thoroughly cleaned, inside and out, and shaved all over, to prepare them for being cooked in whatever way the chefs choose for them.

The Steel Cook lifts the dead boy onto the counter, tossing his soft young body up like the meat it now is. He produces a serrated knife, and begins sawing the longpig’s ribs, careful to avoid piercing his organs. He removes the ribs as a whole, cracking them into two sections once they’re free.

The judges nod approvingly, observing that it looks like he’ll be using the ribs of this longpig.

The challenger, meanwhile, has obviously decided to go for the most dramatic dish he can. He produces a long, aluminum spit, rounded at one end, and has an assistant hold one of his chosen longpigs in position as he readies the spit above the boy’s quivering ass.

The longpig is straining to look over his shoulder, cock dripping onto the counter. The assistant finally grabs the boy’s head, turning it back to face the front for when the spit reaches his front.

The judges hold their collective breath as the challenger oils the smooth end of the spit, resting it on the boy’s opening for just a moment before beginning to slowly, slowly slide it in.

The boy groans and bucks against the massive metal object penetrating him; the assistant is clearly using quite a bit of force to keep him still.

One of the judges notes that it was very thoughtful of the challenger to tie the boy with kitchen twine ahead of time, to keep him from struggling too much.

The spit continues to push deeper into the longpig, the boy’s breath coming in sharp, staccato pants as he struggles, but his cock is still very erect. Finally, it’s clear that the spit is past the point of any object the boy could possibly have inserted into himself before. He’s struggling at the twine holding his wrists, and the assistant, laughing, undoes them. The boy’s hand instantly goes to his cock, stroking out a rhythm in time to the steady, relentless pushing of the spit. The assistant continues holding the longpig’s head and other hand. There is a bulge running along the longpig’s belly, and the audience can see the spit’s progress through his body.

A voice explains that this is very difficult, and requires a lot of skill and practice for a chef to attempt: being able to live roast a longpig. The challenger is clearly focused on his task, guiding the spit through the still-living boy to avoid any organs that will kill him too quickly, before he’s put in the oven.

The smooth, rounded line that can been seen moving through the boy slowly moves up, until the audience can see the bulge starting in the boy’s throat. The challenger and the assistant exchange glances, and the assistant adjusts the boy’s head and neck until the chef nods, satisfied. With one final push, the spit emerges through the boy’s mouth. The longpig cums on the counter, gasping around the spit filling him from end to end.

The assistant ties the boy’s wrists and ankles to the spit, and the two of them take the spitted longpig to a giant rotisserie oven.

The judges wonder aloud to each other how long the longpig will last alive as they watch him squirm and writhe in the heat.

The Steel Cook, meanwhile, is finishing up his longpig ribs, having rubbed them with salt, oil, and a little garlic.

A man explains that, having talked to the Steel Cook before the show began, he had been told that the Cook wanted to use very little seasoning, so that the meat’s natural flavour wouldn’t be overpowered.

The Steel Cook sets the ribs on an open-flame barbeque, watching them for only a moment before hurrying to continue with his other dish.

The scene pans back to the challenger, who is holding a cleaver over his second longpig’s leg, while his assistant holds the boy steady. Once the leg is removed, the assistant quickly makes sure the boy won’t bleed to death, and the challenger strips most of the meat off of the bone. He then chops the bone into smaller pieces, and tosses the pieces into a pot with a small amount of boiling water. He adds a little fat from the boy’s legs, some onions that he’s chopped, and a little salt and pepper, leaving the mixture to simmer into broth.

The judges murmur appreciatively, one of them suspecting that the chef will add very little to the broth once it’s done, allowing them a very pure taste.

The challenger repeats the process with the boy’s other leg, also cutting his brisket off. The chef removes the skin from the leg and the meat from the bone, tossing skin and bone into another pot, with the skin from the brisket.

The announcer explains to the audience that the challenger is making gelatin for a desert. The longpig, now missing both legs from mid-thigh, is propped out of the way, given a glass of water.

The Steel Cook, after checking on the progress of his spit-roasting longpig, removes the one who had been marinating in cola. During the time spent with the challenger, a boy-sized roasting pan has been filled with vegetables. The chef pours sake over the longpig, using a small butane torch to ignite the liquid. The alcohol burns off quickly, but the boy is a little seared to seal his juices in better during roasting. The Steel Cook hustles the longpig into the roasting pan, quickly rubbing his skin with cold butter. The boy squirms at the sensation, but holds still as his wrists and ankles are bound with twine. The chef produces a prepared bowl of stuffing, and the announcer reveals that it contains bread crumbs, apple, celery, onion and chestnut pieces. The chef stuffs the boy, seeming not to notice the longpig’s writhing and rubbing his swollen cock on the vegetables. The chef packs the boy’s guts with fistful after fistful, until there is a noticeable bulge in the longpig’s middle. Slowly, the Steel Cook can fit less and less of his arm in the boy--while he had begun just past the elbow, he can now reach only to the middle of his forearm. When he can only fit his fist inside, he pushes the bowl of stuffing aside. Grabbing an entire, peeled white onion, he shoves it inside the boy’s stretched opening to keep the stuffing contained. He follows this with four whole, peeled parsnips, using the roots to push everything even further inside, until only the rounded ends are poking out of the longpig. Finally, the chef breaks the boy’s jaw and shoves the traditional apple into his mouth.

Then, the Steel Cook uses an assistant to help him place the pan in the oven.

The announcer explains that, while a lid would typically be used, the Steel Cook has decided against using one so the audience can watch the longpig roast. At one point, it is very clear, even through the glass of the oven, that the boy has ejaculated, then he is still in the roasting pan.

Meanwhile, the challenger has finished his gelatin and set it into molds to cool, topping each with a cherry blossom set into the gel. While they’re setting, the chef returns to his legless longpig. Seizing the boy’s cock, the chef jerks him off into a steel mixing bowl. When the boy comes, rather a large quantity, the chef nods dismissively to his assistant. The assistant takes a long, wickedly sharp knife, and slits the boy’s beautiful throat, catching the blood in another dish, before allowing the carcass to fall onto the counter.

The chef adds a little of the blood to the semen, along with a little sugar, and allows the mixture to cool. When it’s slightly below room temperature, he drizzles the sauce over his gelatin.

There’s a commercial break, and it occurs to me that there must have been others, but it had, ah, escaped my notice. I had gone and got a butt plug during one of them, and was happily riding it on my couch as I kept watching. I had been carefully edging, keeping myself from cumming as long as possible, wanting this to last. Now they’re presenting the dishes.

Before presenting his broth, the challenger slices slivers of soft meat off the cock of his legless longpig, fries the bits lightly in oil, and sprinkles them into the liquid.

The spit roasted boy is presented on a special stand, and he can be rotated, allowing all the choicest bits of meat to be sliced off.

The molded gelatin, flowers just visible under the pinkish sauce, is served with more cherry blossoms sprinkled around.

The Steel Cook presents his two simpler, more traditional--but just as delicious!--looking dishes, as well.

The pot roasted boy is left in his pan, perfectly golden brown, surrounded by his nest of vegetables. I imagine what he would smell like, my mouth watering as much as my cock.

The ribs, beautifully charred, are laid on a platter surrounded by seasonal vegetables.

I’ve never wanted to eat something so badly. At this point, I don’t really care who wins, and I finally let myself cum. For a moment, I’m afraid I’m going to black out, it’s so good. I finally recover, shivering and holding myself on the couch, before clicking off the TV before the credits. I’m definitely going to have to YouTube this later. Maybe a few days later.

Stock's Wish

Sydney brought his doctor bag down to the kitchen, not knowing quite what to expect. He saw the kitchen boys fairly regularly, but Jess had requested a meeting between Sydney, him and Stock.

Stock is sitting on Jess' bed, swinging his legs a little nervously and waiting for the doctor to arrive. Jess is finishing some last minute dinner preparations while they wait, and Stock can hear the chef screaming at someone--mostly to be heard over the general kitchen clamour.

Sydney comes in, sitting in an available chair. "Hello Stock," he smiles kindly. "How are you?"

Stock smiles back. He's seen the doctor every few months or so, for checkups and minor injuries. "I'm alright, how are you?" He's a little shy.

"I'm well. What is this about?" Sydney said. Stock looked fine, he'd been expecting something fairly serious.

"Um..." Stock blushes. "...did Jess not tell you?"

"No. You're alright, it's not serious?"

The kitchen boy blinks in surprise. "No, I'm fine...why?"

"I thought... perhaps you had a terrible health problem." Sydney explained. "Since I was told to come down here, and since it was a meeting with Jess as well as you."

"Oh!" Stock laughs softly. "I'm sorry. No, it's nothing like that. I'm fine. I...ah...we...I was wondering if you could measure me for a prosthetic..."

"A prosthetic?" he looked surprised.

"We'll be eating his leg." Jess said as he came in. "Sorry I'm late, there was some chaos in the kitchen." he sat on the bed with Stock. "And I'll need you to sit in on the butchering to take care of Stock afterwards."

Stock jumps a little, startled by Jess' appearance. The boy nods, still rather red. He leans closer to the chef without really noticing that he's doing so.

Sydney nods after a moment. "Well, where were you thinking of amputating?"

Jess indicated a place on Stock's thigh, lifting the boy's shorts.

Stock nibbles his lip shyly, feeling his cock begin to harden, and loving hearing them talk about him like this.

"Do you have a tape measure?" Sydney asked, digging a marker out of his bag.

"I'll find one. Undress." Jess said to Stock, getting up and opening the drawers of his desk.

The boy nods and shimmies out of his shorts and briefs, shrugging out of his shirt--as long as they're in the kitchen, they mostly wear what's comfortable, even if it's not entirely historically accurate. He delicately tries to cover his partial erection with one hand, standing by the bed a little awkwardly.

Sydney kneels in front of the boy, getting him to stand. He makes a mark on his thigh where Jess had indicated.

Jess gave him the tape measure and he wrapped it around Stock's thigh snugly.

Stock finally has to move his hand away from his cock, or he's definitely going to start stroking it. He continues to stand uncomfortably, torn between watching what they're doing and trying to think of something else.

"Is that about right?" Sydney asked Jess.

"Looks fine to me. Can you still give him a prosthesis if you make it higher?"

"Not easily, no. It's much simpler if part of the limb remains." the doctor explained.

"I thought so, but his thigh meat will be some of the best." the chef chuckled.

Stock shivers with delight, making involuntary whimpering sounds as he tries not to touch his now fully erect cock. This is his version of talking dirty. "I suppose not many people can be measured before they lose a limb," he says, sounding a little forced.

"No, I've never heard of it happening before." Sydney chuckled.

Jess looked at Stock's cock with a smirk. "Enjoying yourself?"

Stock nods and looks away, subtly crossing his legs.

"None of that." Jess nudged his legs apart. "I was thinking we should take a cast of his leg. I seem to remember hearing about prosthetics being made with casts."

"That's correct," Sydney nodded. "I can get the supplies to make a cast by next week, but we'll have to send Stock and the cast to a prosthetic specialist once he's healed. Scars all heal slightly differently and the way you butcher him will change the shape of the prosthetic where it meets his leg." Sydney explained, touching Stock's thigh.

Stock is a little surprised that Jess knows so much about this, and touched. For some reason, the thought of a stranger touching and examining his stump is erotic, as well. His legs tremble a little, his cock beginning to leak at the tip. He's quite looking forward to the cast.

Jess smiled at Stock. "You get back to work and we'll get the cast made when the supplies are in."

Stock nods, beaming. His smile is only slightly diminished when he realizes he'll have to get right back to work, with no, ah, break.

"Come to see me after you're done, I have one more thing to do before you wash up." Jess said, dismissing him and continuing to talk to Sydney.

Stock nods and sort of shuffles back to the kitchen, trying to ignore the little trail of drops he's leaving behind. And the thing making them.

Roast chuckles when he sees Stock come in. "Are you okay, sweetie?" he gestures to the boy's cock.

Stock makes a sulky face, shaking his head sadly. Then nodding happily. Then just looking confused. And horny.

Roast ushers him in to their room quickly, dropping to his knees and taking Stock's cock in his mouth.

"Eep!" Stock squeaks. "I, uh, don't...I mean...Jess told me to get back to work...ohgod..."

Roast didn't answer him, just grazing the boy with his teeth lightly. It wasn't polite to talk with your mouth full.

"Ahhh...mmm...oh, yeah..." Stock puts his hands behind his back so he won't grab Roast. In a very, very short amount of time..."Roast, I...ahhhnn!"

Roast swallows and licks Stock clean, grinning up at him. "Feel better?"

Stock nods with the big, grateful eyes. His legs tremble a little, and he leans against the wall with a content little smile. "...thanks, Roast," he says dreamily.

"You're welcome, sweet boy. You take a moment, then get back to work." he kissed Stock's forehead.

Stock nods happily, resting a little before going back to work with a spring in his step.

****

After they've finished the details of how Jess will sever Stock's leg, Jess smiles and offers Sydney his hand. "Thank you for your help."

Sydney smiles back, and takes the hand, a little awkwardly--he's not particularly comfortable around the living, especially if he isn't treating them or something. "Of course. I...look forward to seeing how this turns out," he says, eyes a little unfocused.

Jess raises an eyebrow. "What are you thinking?"

Sydney replies, without a trace of shame, "When next you, ah, butcher a boy...would I be able to have him for a short period? Say, after you had bled and gutted him, but before you had proceeded further?"

"What for?"

The doctor gives Jess a rather dark look. "To fuck."

"Yes. You could have him longer if you're fine being in the freezer with him." Jess said matter-of-factly.

"I assume you mean the walk-in freezer, and not the deep freezer...?"

"Yes, the walk-in."

Sydney nods. "That would be quite alright. Although I don't need long." He smiles, finding himself quite liking the head chef, despite himself.

"You can have him until he needs to freeze, then you can go with him if you're not finished." Jess chuckled. He was also finding himself liking Sydney. The man was quiet and morbid and the enjoyment Jess got from Sydney was different than the sexual enjoyment he got from his kitchen boys.

Sydney nods, his smile much more open and genuine this time. "Well," he says, standing. "I suppose I have some supplies to order." From here, they can just hear Stock's moans. The doctor raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching.

Jess laughs. "Yes. Let me know when they get in."

Sydney nods, his gaze lingering on the chef just a moment before he leaves.

***

When he's done work for the day, Stock knocks softly on Jess' doorframe. "Jess?"

"Come in." Jess is mixing something in a small bowl, a green paste of some kind.

Stock enters, still grinning happily from the day's events. He looks a little confused--Jess never cooks in his room--but goes over to the bed the chef is sitting on.

"Stand." Jess directs him, stripping off Stock's pants. The line Sydney had drawn on earlier is still visible. Jess uses a wet cloth to wipe off some of it and in its place he draws a line with the thick green paste.

Stock raises an eyebrow, watching. Goosebumps raise on his leg, following Jess' fingers. He has no idea what's going on, but...the contact feels very, very good. Especially given the context.

Jess finishes wiping off the line and leaving the trail of paste where it had been. He stood and kissed Stock briefly. "Wash that off in ten minutes and don't scrub at it very hard for the next week. It should last until we amputate your leg."

Stock shivers a little at the kiss, the goosebumps covering his whole body now. "...yesJess..." he murmurs, wandering out of the room to find Roast and squee.

***

Stock is clearly distracted and giddy during his week of waiting, but is trying very, very hard to do well.

Sydney sends Jess a note one day, telling him that the plaster bandages are in.

Jess in turn summons Stock, before heading upstairs to the Doctor's room with his kitchen boy in tow.

Stock bounces up the stairs, grinning like an idiot and trying very hard not to do either.

Jess knocks at Sydney's door, then lets them in. He checks Stock's henna tattoo briefly, nudging Stock forward to be taken charge of by Sydney.

Stock settles a little when he's faced with Sydney, a little shy around the mostly-unknown doctor.

Sydney nods to Jess, undressing Stock quickly and efficiently. He kneels, frowning at the line. "Ah, henna. Good idea." He pushes Stock into a chair near a pan of water and rolls of plaster bandages.

Jess nods. "I didn't want our line to disappear." he hands Stock something made out of leather and metal. "Put this on." it looked like it would fit over the boy's cock.

Stock squints at the contraption, turning it this way and that, trying to figure out where he's supposed to be putting it.

Jess helped him step into it, then locked it around his genitals. "This way you won't be leaking on the cast."

The kitchen boy blushes and nods, sitting again.

Sydney gives Jess a grateful smile and begins dipping strips of the bandage into the water, laying them on Stock's leg starting below the line.

"It's cold!" Stock giggles, "and the water tickles." He watches a bead of whitish water run down his freshly shaved leg, feeling his cock testing the limits of its cage.

Jess held Stock around the chest and neck, keeping him still.

Stock squeaks, his eyes wide as he peeps over Jess' arm to watch the procedure.

Sydney positions the leg until he's got it to his liking, nicely bent to show the joint, and continues applying the wet strips. When he has the whole leg coated to the ankle, he begins a second layer. "We'll do the foot separately," he says, to Jess, ignoring his 'patient'.

"Will it be more finicky, or is it so it can be jointed?"

"So it can be joined. It would be difficult to do a cast of his leg like this and do the bottom of his foot. We'll need to prop the ankle up for that."

Jess nodded. "Sensible."

Stock is nibbling his lip to keep from whimpering at the irresolvable pressure in his nethers. His eyes are closed, and he's quite enjoying them talking about him like this, while the doctor continues slowly covering his leg. "It feels warm!" he says in surprise.

"That means it's starting to dry. Keep still," Sydney says, shaking his head and smiling at Jess.

Jess smiled back, tightening his arm around Stock and enjoying watching Sydney's hands wrap the bandages expertly around Stock's leg.

Stock makes a little 'glack!' noise as he's squeezed, but keeps still.

Sydney finishes the last layer to his satisfaction, gently pressing on the cast for thin spots. "Done. Hold still." The doctor stays where he is on the floor, head resting on his knee, as though he fully intends to stay here until the cast is dry.

Jess rests his chin on Stock's head, looking down at Sydney.

Sydney smiles gently up at the chef, ignoring Stock.

Stock squirms a little--it doesn't so much feel sexy anymore as warm and sort of scratchy, and now he mostly just wants it off.

"Don't squirm." Jess warned him.

Stock nods, cuddling back against the back of the chair and Jess' arms, waiting impatiently for the stuff to harden.

Finally, Sydney pokes it again all over. "It's dry." He takes a pair of medical shears and slides the lower blade between plaster and skin, carefully snipping the cast away up the back. As soon as it's free, he props it up. "Come here," he says to Stock.

Stock, having watched the procedure a little nervously, looks at Jess for confirmation.

Jess nods to him, shooing him forward.

"Hold the edges together." Sydney tells him, dipping another length of bandage in the water.

Stock obeys, allowing the doctor to seal the cut again. Of course, then he has to hold it while -that- dries. And then hold it some more after Sydney has sealed off one end. It's becoming less and less sexy and more and more tedious. He stifles a yawn.

Sydney smirks. "Maybe we'll do your foot another day, hmm?"

"Don't humour him, Sydney, we can finish this. He can be as impatient as he likes." Jess grabbed Stock by his hair.

Stock squeaks and nods, pulled over onto his ass.

The doctor shrugs. "Alright." He nods Stock back into the chair, putting a plastic covered stool in front of it for the boy to rest his ankle on while they repeat the process.

Jess holds Stock more tightly by the neck, giving the boy something to focus on.

Stock shivers happily, the firm grip on his neck and the gentle sensation on his foot making his cock push at the straps holding it again...which only makes him harder. He's soon quietly moaning, blushing as he tries to hide it.

Jess smiles down at Sydney, chuckling. "Doesn't take much, does it?"

Sydney shrugs, looking a little uncomfortable. "I suppose not..."

Stock blushes more deeply, trying to look away, but unable to because of the grip on his neck.

Jess tilts Stock's head back, putting more pressure on his throat. "Sex with the living makes you uncomfortable, doesn't it." he remarked.

Stock gasps, quietly, the goosebumps returning, his foot twitching on the stool.

Clamping one powerful hand on Stock's ankle above the area he's making a cast of, Sydney nods, looking up with a little surprise at Jess. "...yes..."

"Have you ever tried it?" he asked curiously.

"No," Sydney says, looking as repulsed as if Jess had just suggested he put live cockroaches up his butt.

Jess nods, chuckling at Sydney's expression.

Stock listens to the exchange, curious and a little confused.

"Have you ever, well...tried it my way?" Sydney asks, just as curiously, as he finishes wrapping the foot in the final layer. He continues to hold the ankle firmly in place, not realizing how much it's turning Stock on.

"I've fucked dead boys, but never just for the sake of fucking dead boys." Jess shrugged. "It's part of their death and part of cooking them."

Sydney nods, a little surprised to have found common ground with the chef. "Perhaps we could...talk like this again sometime?" he says, a little tentatively.

"I'd like that." Jess smiled, tightening his fingers on Stock's throat in his own happiness.

"...glack!" Stock says again, his eyes rolling up in his head, little bits of his cock's flesh pushing out of the confines of the cage.

"As would I," Sydney says, smiling back and increasing his pressure on the leg in case Stock squirms...which of course, makes him do so.

Stock's cast dries and Jess helps Sydney close it up, since Stock is still wiggling with horniness.

Sydney's hand brushes Jess' while they're working together, and he glances sideways at the chef. There was...something...at that moment. Something that almost reminded him of the way he felt with the dead. He shakes his head and continues.

Stock whimpers in the chair, casting subtle, pleading glances at his cock.

Jess smiles at Sydney, touching the man's shoulder as he stands up. He tosses Stock the key to his chastity belt. "Give this to Roast."

Sydney glances up at Jess, a very odd expression on his face. He remains kneeling, holding the cast of Stock's foot.

"Yessirthankyousir!" Stock pants as he fumbles for the key and races downstairs.

"What is it?"

"Hmm?" Sydney asks, confused, his face neutral again.

Jess raised an eyebrow. "Your expression changed."

"Did it?" he says, glancing down as he gathers the remaining rolls and pieces of bandage.

"I thought as much." Jess touched Sydney's wrist. "If you'd like, we could talk more privately next time."

Sydney glances at the hand on his wrist, an expression that vaguely resembles longing on his face. "...it's private now," he says, sounding almost shy for the first time.

Jess kneels next to him. "What are you thinking, when you look at me like that?"

The doctor considers the man beside him, resting his head on his knee again. "I'm not sure," he says, eyes roving up and down Jess' kneeling body as though he's an unusual specimen.

"I'm not particularly picky when it comes to lovers, but I get the feeling you are. I'm not sure if you'd want to be involved with me, but that's what I'm seeing. I can certainly involve you in the deaths of my boys, but beyond that, I doubt a sexual relationship would satisfy you." Jess said bluntly.

Sydney raises an eyebrow and laughs quietly. "True. And I'm not sure that's what I want. But..." He visibly relaxes, his face shifting from its usual pleasant blankness to something...else. Something much more real, and less comforting. "I enjoy talking with you," he says, awkwardly, unable to express how it feels to be able to be honest, and open, and not have to lie for the sake of other's comfort.

"Because I understand?"

"Yes."

"Friends, then?" Jess offered him his hand.

Sydney nods, very seriously, and takes the hand. "Friends," he agrees.